Vittala

 

Kamalabai drew that saree out from her battered old trunk and caressed it with pride. That was an expensive one, almost new and she had worn it only once before. Today she is going to wear it again when visiting the temple to have darshan of Vittala. A smile blossomed on her lips and lingered a while as she thought that at least today, the devotees in the temple would come to know that Kamalabai also occasionally wore good sarees.

Even though it had not accumulated any dirt or stain, she went about washing the saree. She handled it with as much care as one would handle a baby, applying as little pressure on her hands and turning and twisting the cloth as gently as possible as if even that action might hurt it.

Her memories ran back to the time when an admirer of her husband Tukaram had presented it to them, in appreciation of his passionate and fervent outpouring of songs on Lord Krishna. How else would she have got it? Certainly not from Tukaram’s earnings, for he had none. Any asset in the house was only there received as gifts as a return for the enjoyment devotees perceived when listening to Tukaram’s kirtanas and bhajans.

How can the family run in the absence of a permanent source of income? Mere bhajans wouldn’t fire the stove and cook food for the hungry stomach! She indeed did her best by pleading a nearby landlord and obtaining her husband a job as watchman for his corn field. However, Tukaram, by not being attentive to the job but instead singing bhajans on the raised barn stand, squandered the opportunity to earn even that little, a job obtained by Kamalabai with so much difficulty. The birds merrily ate the maturing corns as he went about singing and dancing, and the landlord promptly sacked him.

On top of it, not only did Tukaram forget the world while singing bhajans, his soulful singing also gathered quite a crowd. Though Tukaram belonged to the higher caste, he was unmindful of the crowd’s social status, it was never a concern for him. For him, they only came to listen to his passionate songs. As the crowd that consisted of people from all castes reveled in absolute ecstasy, it also prompted people of higher chaste castes to frown upon Tukaram and neglect him, causing further loss of income of any kind.

Immersed in worrying thoughts of a future that looked as bleak and dark as the looming storm clouds, the silver lining she saw at that moment was that saree she was going to wear that evening. Heaving a big sigh of desperation, she started folding the saree neatly in order to hang it on the line for drying. Having spread it out properly, she went into the house to take a look at other things to do. Kamalabai noticed Tukaram, as usual, singing bhajans without a care or responsibility for running the household, and as usual, a good crowd had gathered around him.

Among the crowd was a good looking woman, standing a little away from others, draped in a saree that was torn here and there but sufficient enough just to enable her move about with dignity. “Why are you standing there, young lady, come join us!” Tukaram invited her to come forward. Kamalabai chuckled with a sense of envy, “why not seat her comfortably on a throne”, and hurriedly went in without looking up further.

Tukaram continued his bhajans, interspersed with his views on how all living beings are equal before Lord Vittala, how there is no distinction among people as all are born equal. As time wore out, the bhajans also came to an end, and the crowd dispersed. Only that young lady remained. Tukaram quizzically looked at her, as if asking why she has not left, or if she needed anything. She understood, and said, “Guruji, I was waiting for all others to leave, so that they do not look at me and ridicule my torn dress.”

“Why, I too noticed, don’t you have anything better to wear?”

“I had plenty, Guruji, but there was a lady who in a really desperate situation asked my husband for help to cover her modesty, and he gave away all the sarees that I had!”

She continued, “I later came to know that in his younger days, he used to tease girls by hiding their clothes when they got into the river to take bath, and would give their clothes back only when they pleaded in chorus. I think it is those girls’ wrath and curse that has resulted in my having only a torn saree to wear!”

Tukaram looked stunned for a moment. He told her to wait and looked around. There it was on the clothesline, that decent new saree just washed by his wife and left to dry in air, waving in the breeze, as if inviting him to take it. He went, took it and gave it to the lady. “Here you go. Take this, wear it now. Ladies should never come out with torn clothes.”

“Won’t your wife get angry if you give her saree to me?”

“She would, but it will only be there for a day or two. I will manage. Now you wear this and go!”

She wore it with profound satisfaction that was very much visible in her smile, and took leave.

In a short while, Kamalabai came out and found her saree missing. She asked her husband, “did you see my saree that was hanging here?”

“Yes, I gave it to the poor lady whose saree was so torn and unwearable. You also saw her. At least you have a few decent sarees. She did not have anything else than the one she was wearing.”

Kamalabai controlled her anger and frustration. What a philanthropist her husband was, though unfit to earn a living, to give away the only new saree she had, and had so keenly prepared to wear it that evening! Tears rolling down her cheeks, she went back into the house. In the evening, she locked the house and stepped out to go to the temple, with her husband following by her side. Tukaram had been observing her, and started comforting her. “Don’t worry, Kamala! The Lord is watching us, and he will take care of us.” She smiled wryly and kept pace with him.

They reached the temple. As they reached the sanctum, she closed her eyes. Thoughts of sorrow and pain overwhelmed her. “Oh Lord, why are you keeping us like this, in hunger and poverty? Doesn’t my husband always think of you and praise you all the time? Will you not have some mercy on him?” Her mental outpouring kept flowing until the time of the temple bells chiming, when she opened her eyes.

Kamalabai could not believe her eyes. She rubbed them once and looked again. Was it real what she was seeing? She pinched the back of her hand to test if she was conscious, and looked at the Lord again. As He stood majestically, smiling mischievously with his hands on his hips, there stood Rukmini by his side, donning, yes, the very same saree she had washed and hung on the clothesline, the one that Tukaram had given away to the poor lady. Now it dawned on her, that the lady was no one else but Rukmini Devi herself!

The entire world melted before her eyes. She could not control her tears. “Ma! Forgive me! I had underestimated my husband’s faith in the Lord and You! How merciful and kind of you to have taken my saree from his hands and to give darshan wearing it here! Blessed is my husband and blessed too is me myself!”

They both stood there for some time, absolutely frozen and unable to believe what they saw. Without any more thoughts, they worshiped the Divine Couple and left for home. As they reached their house, they saw a bullock cart in front of their house. The landlord who Kamalabai had requested to give her husband a job, jumped out of the cart and with folded hands in respectful gesture, greeted them.

“Ma-ji, you must forgive me for sacking your husband of the job. I request him back again, not to keep watch, but to just be there and do whatever he wants. Do you know the surprise! Never has my field produced so bountiful a reap of corn, even after the birds ate so much while your husband was in guard. Now I know he is not a normal human being. He has the divine grace of Lord Vittala on him, and whatever he touches, will turn into gold.” Saying this, he presented a cartload of grains and other offerings, in addition to a sizable amount of gold coins.

Kamalabai was speechless. Tukaram nudged her. “Look Kamala, we gave the saree to Rukmini. But look at what her husband has given us in return! Isn’t His mercy bountiful?”

They both smiled with glee, folding their hands towards the direction of Vittala in the temple.

Dec 5, 2021